Suture Up The Future
by dr.evil99
Summary: After the destruction of Sunnydale, Xander struggles to find his place in his new life.  But will a certain rogue Slayer help or hurt the cause?
1. Chapter 1

Author's Notes: First off, this is my my maiden foray into the world of Buffy, as well as first-person writing. So, this threatens to suck mightily. Please forgive me if it does. And of course, I own nothing in the Buffyverse, it all belongs to Joss and the loonies at Mutant Enemy. But if they want to give me Faith, that'd be awfully nice of them.

Setting: Post Season 7, maybe a few months after "Chosen."

Rating: T. Actually, call it a hard T. We've got some bad language, violence, and sexual content, though nothing that I think goes beyond what we saw on the show. PG-13, or whatever.

Dedication: I would like to dedicate this story to the girl they call Orange, for not only is she the Queen of all that is cool and metal, but she's also the best friend a person could ask for. Gracias, mi mejor amiga.

* * *

The bleached-blonde girl sitting across the tiny, wobbly table from me takes another sip of her vodka tonic and smiles at me. "So, Nick, how long have you been in Cleveland?" 

"Going on three months," I reply, reminding myself to take a drink of my beer before it got too warm. "Just got transferred here from another division in my company when they shut down a branch in California. And now that I'm a little settled, I thought I'd get out and about, make a few friends and see the sights. Cleveland's not a bad town, really. At least, I finally found a decent bar." I hope that last part didn't sound too much like a lie; the truth was, the establishment we were drinking in, known as 'Pauley's Place,' well... calling it a dive would be an insult to some very nice dives I've frequented. But this is business, not pleasure.

She nods. "It's okay, I come here a lot to unwind and meet some friends, myself," she says as she toys with her straw, "You'd think it'd be hard to get lonely in a place like this, but, hey, I guess that's life in the big city."

I smile in a manner I try to make look sympathetic. "I'm a small town boy, myself, so it's all a bit much for me, really. So, Terri, are you meeting any friends here tonight?"

Terri (earlier, she had made a point of informing me it was spelled with an 'i') grins a little too broadly. "I dunno, do you think you count as a friend yet?"

"Hey, you've bought me..." I make a show of counting empty glasses, "...four beers. One more and I'll start thinking of proposing."

She laughs. "We'll see, Nick."

Over the next hour or so we make more idle chatter, and knock back a few more heavily watered-down drinks. I'm beginning to think that I've miscalculated and she's not in the mood, or that I've somehow spooked her, and start to consider looking for easy exits from the situation. Then she reaches reaches across the table and touches my hand with hers, feather-soft.

"Hey," she says softly, "Where's your place at?"

"Over on the east side, in Collinwood,"

"That's way too far to drive, given all you've had to drink," she notes. "Tell you what, why don't you come back to my place for a while? I'm only a couple blocks away. Besides, I'm getting tired of this place, and I think I'd like to have some company tonight." As if what she's implying isn't clear enough, she leans over just a bit as she says it, giving me a prime view down the front of her extremely low-cut blouse.

Ladies and gentlemen, we have a winner.

My grin threatens to split my head two as I signal the waitress for the check. "Lead the way, Terri."

* * *

A few minutes later, Terri and I are walking down an alleyway that looks like the sort of place where the rats grow about the size of the ones in _The Princess Bride._ She has an arm slung loosely around my waist, every so often leaning against me and grinding one or another soft portion of her anatomy into me. Subtle, she ain't but hey, I guess it works for her. 

She pauses, giggling. "I think I had a few too many. I feel kinda... goofy."

I look over at her. She's smiling like your average air headed bar-bimbo, but it doesn't quite reach her eyes. "Really? Good thing I'm along to keep you safe."

"Ah, my white knight," she says with a titter.

I fight down a scowl. Did she really have to use _those _particular words?

Suddenly, she turns and places both both hands on my shoulders and presses my back against the filthy wall behind me. She leans in close to me, and I feel my heart start pounding as her booze-scented breath tickles at my face and neck. "Mmmm, I really like you, Nick." As she says it, she nonchalantly slips one of her legs between mine. If I wanted to run, it would be too late now. I was trapped, which is exactly what I'd been counting on.

"Obviously," I murmur as I get ready from what I know is coming.

"Yes, that's why I'm actually a bit sorry about this," she says. As I watch, her baby-blue eyes turn stop-light yellow, and her face reshapes itself into something resembling a cross between a lizard and one of those creepy-ass hairless cats. She sighs theatrically, "I was actually considering maybe turning you, keeping you around to have some fun with. But, I just don't think I'm ready for that sort of commitment yet. Ah well, at least I can promise you this will only hurt for a second." She leans in close, preparing to bite me.

The stupid thing about a lot of vamps is that they get too used to being stronger than the poor saps they prey on. if Terri was anything close to smart, she'd have immobilized my hands. Just because I'm weaker than than she is doesn't mean I'm helpless.

A quick flick of my right wrist, and the stake I'd had up my jacket sleeve drops into my palm. As hard as I can, I thrust the stake into her heart. Terri takes a step back and looks at me. The surprise on her face is almost makes me laugh aloud. Hey, in this line of work, you take humor where you find it.

"I guess this means you won't be calling me tomorrow," I say with mock-regret, just before she explodes into ash.

I brush the dust off of me as I lean over to retrieve the stake from the pile that had been Terri a few moments before. And suddenly, the left side of my face explodes with searing pain, as something that felt like a medium-sized cinderblock hits my blind side.

I real back from the impact, landing face-first in a pile of trash that smelled like it had been left in the narrow alley sometime around the last time the Indians won a pennant. I roll over in time to see three vampires in full game-face, looming over me. One's skinny, one chunky, one medium build. I mentally dub them Larry, Curly, and Moe, respectively. Like I said, humor is where you find it.

"Hi, fellas," I say. "I'm really hoping you're not jealous boyfriends, or anything like that."

"Hardly," Moe of-the-medium-build answers. "We just thought we'd let her do all the work, and take a meal for ourselves. But, I guess you can't trust a woman to do a man's job, eh?" He grins, and closes in on me, his flunkies close behind.

So, I'm thinking I'm pretty much screwed, seeing as I have no way to retreat, and I won't get to the spare stake in my jacket pocket before the Three Stooges make me the blue-plate special. So, I mentally pray, hoping that God, Allah, Odin, or whatever else might be up there will make the sun come up a few hours early, or something.

As I begin to resign myself to drained, I hear a faint _woosh! s_ound, and a sharp, pointy piece of wood suddenly erupts from Moe's chest, slightly to the left of his sternum. He gasps, and dusts. As his pals spin around to see what happened, I see a distinctly female shape standing about ten yards back up the alley, still with an arm cocked from where she presumably threw her stake. It's dark, so I don't really recognize her, from appearance, but when she speaks, I know right away that things are about to get... complicated.

"Yo, X-man," the New-England accented voice drawls, "Am I interrupting some sort of male-bonding deal here?"

Of all the Slayers that could have saved my hide, it just had to be Faith.

Larry the skinny vamp growls and rushes towards Faith, followed closely by Curly. Since they've stopped paying attention to me, I take a chance, and jump up, fumbling for the stake in my pocket. I manage to get a hold of it, and sink the stake into Curly's back. Unfortunately, my aim sucks, and I miss the heart. Instead of dusting him, I just pissed him off. He whirls on me, and hits me with a backhanded blow that felt like it should have snapped my neck like toothpick. I don't even have time to think of creative ways to curse my clumsiness as I slip into unconsciousness.

* * *

"Xander? Wake up, c'mon!" 

I feel my head being shook from side to side, and I claw my way back to consciousness. My ears are ringing like bells, but I can still hear Faith's voice.

"Xander, wake up so we can get moving before we have to fight every vamp in Cleveland, okay?"

I groan, and manage to pull myself together. "Faith, maybe it's not such a good idea to bobble my head around right after I took a sledgehammer punch to the temple, eh?"

"Oh, yeah, right." She stops, and looks around. "What the hell were you doing down here alone, Xander? This place is vamp central."

I struggle to my feet, brushing gray dust off myself. Looks like Faith got the other two stooges, not that I should have doubted. "Just... following up a lead, no big deal. Any problem with the other two vamps?"

She stands up next to me, slipping a stake back under the light denim jacket she wore. "Nah, strictly amateur hour, those two." She seems to almost... sniff the air a moment. Then she looks down. "You're bleeding. Right arm."

I look down, and indeed, blood's running down my hand from a three inch gash on the back of my wrist. "Must have cut it on something when I got dumped in the trash. It's no big, I'll take care of it when I get back to the ranch." I make to leave, but a vice-like grip on my arm stops me.

"You got a death wish or something, Xander? You're bleeding, half drunk judging from the smell of you, and in the middle of a vampire block party. You, Buffy and the others live on the other side of town. You wouldn't make it ten blocks." She sighs and runs her hand through her dark brown locks. "My place is closer, you might as well come on back with me and wait for daylight."

A small part of me cries out in dread at the thought of going _anywhere alone with_ Faith. There are still a few issues there, even after all these years. But, I try to be polite. "You don't have to do that, Faith I-"

"'Fraid I got to insist, boytoy. Buff and Red don't know I'm back in town, but they'll find out, and they'll be mucho pissed if I let you get sucked dry. So you can follow me, or I'll knock you cold and carry you."

Faith's the kind of person that wouldn't say something like that idly, so I don't have much choice. "Alright, lead the way."

* * *

Faith's place turned out to be a ratty two room apartment not four blocks away. As she let me in, I noted the still-packed duffel bag sitting over in the corner. "Did you just get here, or are you planning on leaving?" I ask as I sit at the small table in what passed for a kitchen. 

"Just got in town yesterday," Faith replies as she rummages around in the bag a sec, and came back with a small white plastic box with a red cross on the lid. "Take off your jacket and shirt."

I mock frown, to cover my nervousness around her. "What, no foreplay?"

"Cute, X-man. But I'm tired of you bleeding on my kitchen table, and I don't think you can sew left handed." She sits next to me and takes out a sterile needle and sutures from the first aid kit.

"Hey, you really know what you're doing with that?" I ask, a bit worried.

"Oh sure, you learn all kinds of stuff in the joint," she says as she opens a bottle of antiseptic. "Remind me to show you how to kill someone with a newspaper sometime. Now, lose the shirt. I got to check you for cracked ribs, too."

I'm not totally reassured, but I go along. It's a good policy to go along when dealing with someone who can break you over their knee without even trying. "I think I'd know if I had a cracked rib," I mutter as I strip down to my undershirt. "I've had a few."

"Yeah, maybe, but you're also half lit, and you might not notice them," she remarks as she pokes at my sides. "No broken ribs that I can tell," she says as she takes a look at my face. "You've got a nice shiner coming in right around your..." She trails off and sort of half-points at her left eye.

"Patch? Socket?" Looks like me being a cyclops even freaks Ms. Badass-of-the-Year out.

"Yeah... let's get to work on that cut." She pulls my arm closer to her, and begins cleaning the gash with gauze and antiseptic. "You sure picked a bad place to go out for drinks. But then, judging from what you did with the blonde bloodsucker, I almost think you were looking for that kind of action. That's two things that are fishy."

"How so?" I ask.

"One: you leaving a bar with a woman"

"That's not funny."

She continues. "Two: you seemed to know that she was a vamp from the start. You were way too ready for her when she went gameface. What's the story with that?"

"Just, you know, routine slay-stuff," I say, hoping she'd drop the matter.

Naturally, she doesn't. "I think I'm gonna have to sound the bullshit alarm on that one, X-man. Buffy wouldn't let you go out vamp-hunting without at least one Slayer to back you up," she says as she finishes cleaning, and grabs the needle and suture. "Now, what's really going on?"

I look nervously at the needle. "No anesthetic?"

"Well we could take you to a hospital, but that would lead to questions, right? From B and the other Scoobies? And I'm guessing that this little escapade of yours is off the books, right?" she smiles in a way that makes my throat go a little dry. "Now, I might just have some lidocaine in the kit, if I get the answers I'm looking for..."

Damn, I was caught. "Okay, I was doing this on my own. We got some intel about that particular blonde vampire preying on men at that bar. So, I decided to do something about it. Scoped out the place with a portable infra-red viewer, and when I saw the girl room-temperature, I knew that was her. So I made a move."

"By yourself? Xander, that's stupid. Why not just get the Slayers on the case?"

"Slayers have better things to do. Besides, I'm kinda... not in on the slay-age as much these days."

"They kicked you out?" She sounded surprised.

"Not really, I still... help out with things, sorta. But I don't think they're so anxious to have a one-eyed former construction worker getting in their way. So, I'm taking initiative." I could feel myself scowling. "I get the sense they're putting me out to pasture. They won't say it, cause of..." I point to my eyepatch.

"Yeah, guilt has a way of making people... polite," she says in a strange tone. Faith reaches into the first aid kit and pulls out a syringe. "But seriously, I really doubt that B's gonna give you the boot. You've been with her since the start of all this. And besides, Red would give her hell if she tried to cut you loose, right?"

"It's... things are weird around the Slayers right now. Wills and Kennedy are somewhere in South America right now, and Buffy... I dunno, we don't talk like we used to. And she's always busy with... something lately." I shrug. "She hasn't even been in town for more than a day at a time for the last month."

Frowning, Faith leans in close to my arm, "Yeah, well, I guess you earned the numb-y stuff then," she says as she gives me the injection, close to cut.

I wince at the jab. "You learned this in prison, too? You probably have to be a doctor to get a hold of stuff like this, right?" I ask as I take a quick glance down the front of her shirt. Hey, I'm a guy, what do you want?

"Sutures, yes, the anesthesia stuff, no," she replies, "That's something Wood taught me. He's got a hook-up with some doctor. That's how I got the kit."

"Ah," I say as we wait for the numbing to set in. "That reminds me, where is Wood? You two were pretty tight when we split up after Sunnydale took the plunge."

She shrugs. "Yeah, well, we aren't anymore. He couldn't decide if he wanted to be my foster dad or my boyfriend, so it was time to call it quits. I ain't no one's pet project."

Her tone clearly tells me that further probing her about this would result in her probing sensitive parts of my anatomy with a stake, so, I sit silent for a few moments as she got up and rummaged around in the fridge. When she returns, she has a bottle of Stella Artois in each hand. She casually flicks the caps off with her thumbs, and offers me a bottle. "You're half drunk already, so you may as well finish the job."

"Thanks," I reply, and take a healthy gulp. "I think I'm pretty well numb, you can go ahead and start stitching."

She nods and sits close, readying her needle and suture. "Try not to squirm too much," she says as she begins her work. I pointedly turn away, and concentrate on savoring my beer, rather than needle and thread sliding through the flesh of my arm.

After a few minutes that feel like hours, she pulls the sutures taut, and snips off the tail end. I look down at her work. It wasn't hospital-quality, but I figure I shouldn't end up with too much of a scar. "Thanks," I say as I look over at where my shirt lies on the table, it's sleeve bearing a large bloodstain. "I don't suppose you do laundry too?"

"Don't push your luck," she says as she polishes off her beer and goes to the fridge for a second.

"Hey Faith," I ask, "what are you doing back in Cleveland, anyhow? I mean, even though you and Wood are _kaput, _ you seemed pretty determined to make your own way after the Sunnydale business. I thought you were through with the Slayers."

"I was," she says as she returns to the table with two more beers. "But, Giles called me, said he needed my help with something, and would pay me from the funds the Slayers have scrounged up from the old Watcher's Council. And since I'm still technically a fugitive from the law, it's not like I can go out and get a job, or anything." she sighs, and half-drains her beer in one pull. "So, here I is." She looks at me rather critically. "Not freaking you out too much I hope."

"Why would you freak me out?"

"Well, c'mon, I did kinda-sorta try to kill you, and stuff."

I shrug, inwardly wincing at the memory of steely little fingers squeezing my trachea shut. No need to dig that up now, I'm enjoying my beer buzz too much. "That doesn't exactly put you on a short list. Besides, you took my virginity too. Guess that evens out, or something."

She half-smiles, and finishes the rest of her beer. "Yeah, Anya never thanked me for breakin' you in."

Now that was a name I didn't need to hear. Hearing someone bring her up... does things to me, lately. I grit my teeth, and nurse my beer in silence

A few seconds pass, one of those pregnant pauses that writers are always talking about. I'm not sure what's showing on my face, but Faith can clearly tell that she's hit a nerve. Most people would let the matter drop. Most people aren't Faith.

"Is that what the business tonight is all about?" She asks. "Don't tell me you're going all Charles Bronson Death Wish on us. I mean, even you have to be smarter than that!"

"Can it, Faith," I snap back. "It's none of your goddamn business."

"Probably not," she says. "But still, seems awful stupid to me. You made it out of," she pauses and counts with her fingers, "Like, four or five apocalypses that I know about, and you're going to throw it away over some dead chick's memory? You made it out, she didn't. It happens. Now you move on."

"Faith, I'm not interested in the sermon," I say. I've told myself this same crap she's spouting dozens of times. "I'm just living my life, the way I want. Ahn's death hit me hard, yes. But that's all behind me now." I don't even sound sincere to myself.

"First off, a one-eyed man trying to go toe to toe with vamps is no way to live a life, just make it shorter. Second, you're never going to live any kind of life dragging Anya around behind you."

I'm quickly losing my temper. Why won't she just shut up? "Faith, I don't expect you to understand what any of this is like. Now if you'll excuse me, I'll just grab my shit and leave." I stand up and reach for my jacket on the table, but a Slayer-strong grip on my arm stops me. Yeah, I know Faith's supposed to be walkin' the straight and narrow way these days, but I still can't help but sweat a little when she lays hands on me like that. Her boring her eyes into me like drills ain't helping, either.

"Listen," she says. "You say you're over Anya? Fine. Prove it."

I'm about to ask what she's talking about when she moves in close to me, and kisses me. And by kiss, I don't mean a 'butterfly wings brushing across your lips' kinda deal.' This is the kind of thing that steals your breath and buckles your knees. Before I can get my head straight, her tongue is demanding entrance to my mouth. I don't fight back, because, you know, that would be futile. But I don't return her kiss. And no, I haven't suddenly discovered that I'm gay.

It's just that... I can't even describe what's happening in my head, in this moment. Images and words all flashing together, like watching four TV's at the same time with the volume cranked up. It's a thousand different things all happening in my skull at once, but the one thing that keeps repeating in all of it is... Anya. Her face, her voice, all the sweet/funny/completely insane things she'd say. The way she smelled, felt, tasted... they're all still up there.

I can't be this weak, can I?

She pulls away, and looks at me. Her expression is somewhere between smug and sad, if that's even possible. "Yeah, see, that's kinda what I thought." She shakes her head, and turns to go to what I presume is her bedroom. "You can crash out here on the couch, till daylight-"

"Faith, wait," I try to interject

She's pointedly paying no mind. "There's some burgers in the fridge, couple more beers if you feel like getting more twisted than you already-"

"Faith!" The shout finally gets her attention.

"What, Xander?" She turns and walks right up to me, almost chest to chest. "What can you possibly say?"

"I..." Great, I've been reduced to croaking out vowel sounds.

"Look, I get it, sorry if I pissed you off, but my point's made. You're not over her. S'not my prob, anyway." She tries to turn around, but my hand finds its way to her shoulder, stopping her.

I don't know where the impulse comes from, but I lean in and kiss her. I can't match what she did to me a moment before, but after a few seconds, she starts to return the kiss, leaning in and putting her arms around me. She pulls us closer together, and as she slips her hands under my shirt, I feel her nails rake across my back.

Things are starting to blur for me, I dunno if it's a little bit of anger, alcohol, or just being that damn horny. Faith drags her mouth down the side of my neck, scraping her teeth on my skin, and I can't stifle a moan. Faith pulls away from nipping at my neck, and suddenly tugs me down to the bed. Yeah, I don't know when we got into the bedroom, either. She says nothing as she attacks my mouth with hers again, kissing me with what feels like bruising force. Finally, she sits up on the bed, and gives me an almost challenging look, as her hands move down to the hem of her tank-top to pull it over her head. The room is dim, but it's just enough to show me glimpses of soft, pale skin over hard muscles.

"Well, let's see if you picked up any new tricks since last time," she says, before moving in on me again.

_To Be Continued..._

* * *

Music for my muses during the writing of this fic: _Wish You Were Here- _Pink Floyd,_ A Line of Deathless Kings- _My Dying Bride, _ Fear, Emptiness, Despair-_Napalm Death, _Remission- _Mastodon, _Last Fair Deal Gone Down- _Katatonia, _13__th__ Step- _A Perfect Circle, and _Era Vulgaris- _The Queens of the Stone Age. The title of this piece is taken from a song on that record. 

Well, hope you enjoyed my first attempt at this universe, and hope to see you next update!

Regards,

The Doctor

17 June 2007


	2. Chapter 2

_Disclaimer: I don't own... blah blah... Joss Whedon's a genius... blah blah..._

_Acknowledgments:_

_Much love, as always, to Orange, for being her funny, smart and completely incredible self. Without her support, guidance, and faith, this story wouldn't be happening, it's as simple as that, folks._

_Also, thanks to everyone who read, and hopefully, enjoyed the first chapter._

* * *

There comes a time in every man's life, when he finds himself in a situation where he can only ask himself 'dude, what the fuck?' 

Such is my current situation.

I mean, I don't think I'm a terribly rash person. Well, other than that time I tried to get Cordelia to take me back, and ended up getting the entire female population of Sunnydale (_except_ Cordelia) to fall in love with me/want to kill me. Oh, and that time I summoned up that Broadway tap-dance demon up to cheer everyone up... yeah, okay, so I am a rash person. But really, I think I may have outdone myself this time.

I mean what was _this_? One second, it's beginning to look like I'm going to scream at Faith, and storm out... the next we're making love?

No. Not 'making love,' not a bit. There was no love in what we did. Screwing. Really good screwing, if I do say so myself... but definitely screwing.

What bugs me, is that I don't know _why _it happened. I was more than a little drunk, sure, but I wasn't _that _wasted. So... was I just being a horny opportunist, or was I just plain lonely? I'm not one that looks for deep meaning in everything that happens, but... I feel empty, and, no sir, I don't like it.

Sleep has been hard to find, and staring at the stain on the ceiling for the last few hours hasn't provided any enlightenment, even though it does kinda look like Buddha if you squint real hard. I turn my head to take another look at my bedmate.

The sun's just starting to rise, and the tiny apartment bedroom is cast in a dim half-light. It's just bright enough for me to see the shape of Faith. Vampire Slayer, wanted fugitive, and the girl that I'd spent a good part of the previous night doing things with that were still illegal in some parts of the Bible Belt. She's curled in a little ball, (hogging most of the covers. I might add), keeping as much of a gap between me and her as the bed will allow. Part of me wants to be a bit insulted, but I shouldn't be... Faith's not really the kind of girl to be into post-sex cuddling. Hell, last time we did this, she kicked me out as soon as I'd caught my breath. Nothing personal, I'm sure.

She seems to be sound asleep, and when you look at her now, there's something just a bit... softer to her face. Normally, she's all 'I'm a badass, screw with me at the risk of your gonads." But I've heard it said that one sees a person's true face when they're sleeping. She's barely more than a girl... far too young to have to carry some of the things she's seen and done.

Her eyes pop open, and she fixes a steady look at me. "You know, that whole 'watching the girl while she sleeps bit' always was kinda cute. But, it's a thin line between cute and creepy. What side are we on, X-man?"

"And a good morning to you, Faith," I say. "Uh... did ya sleep well?"

She nods absently as she leans over the side of the bed, fumbling for her hastily-discarded jeans. When she finds them, she digs a battered half-empty pack of Camels out of the pocket.

"Ah, the breakfast of champions," I can't help but quip.

She gives me the finger as she lights up. "Kinda surprised you're still here," she says.

"Oh?"

"Well, it's not like you're my boyfriend, or anything. I mean, last night was wicked fun and all, but you could've left if you wanted."

Now _this_ was an uncomfortable early morning chat. "Well, uh, I didn't want to. Would you have felt better if I had?"

She shoots me a brief look that I can't quite place the meaning of. Then she shrugs. "Whatever, doesn't matter to me." She takes another drag on her cigarette, and glances over at the clock on the nightstand. "I'm supposed to meet Giles in two hours."

Not the most subtle change of subject ever, but that's Faith for you. I do vaguely remember her mentioning him calling her to Cleveland last night. "Yeah, and he didn't tell you why he wanted to meet you?"

She shook her head. "No, he just said it was a 'matter of great importance," she says with a bad fake Brit accent."So, I guess I'll find out soon enough."

"Yep."

The next few minutes pass in the sort of uncomfortable silence that only two naked people sitting in bed together next to each other can have.

"Faith," I say at last, "Last night was... I mean... I wasn't expecting things to-"

"Don't worry, I'm on the pill," she says casually as she slips out of bed.

"That's not really what I meant, you know" I say as I get up and start picking up my own clothes from the floor. "I mean... well, I don't know exactly what I mean. Maybe it's that old 'I still respect you in the morning' bit. I don't want you to think I was looking to take advantage of you, or anything like that."

"Look, " Faith says as she gets pulls on her panties and t-shirt, "I think you're putting too much into what happened. We were both consenting adults. We were both feelin' a bit wound up. It was a great way to blow off steam, that's all." She pauses and gives me a direct look. "Right?"

I nod mutely.

"Good. I got first call on the shower, then you can show the the way to the Slayer's hangout." She turns and heads down the hall to the bathroom, and a few moments later I hear the hiss of running water.

Just blowin' off steam, I tell myself.

* * *

Since neither of us had a car of their own, we took a bus to the old industrial district that the Slayers have made their current base in. The journey is pretty much free of any real talk between Faith and myself. Truth is I wouldn't have known what to talk about with her anyway. 

After a three block walk from the last bus stop, we arrive at the new Slayer Central, a seemingly deserted old brick warehouse.

"This is a dump," Faith notes with her usual tact.

"Yep," I agree. "Bought the property with money siphoned off the old Watcher's Council reserves. Giles and Buffy picked the place because all the neighboring buildings seem to be deserted, so there's less likely to be many questions as to why a bunch of young women are going in and out at odd hours. People would think they were running a brothel, or something. There's still a watch at the window, just in case. Someone will be coming out to greet us shortly, I'm sure."

No sooner do I finish the sentence, than Rona comes out of the unmarked steel door. She's blinking her eyes in the bright morning sun, and looks pretty tired. I'd guess she had patrol the previous night. "Hey Xander. None of the girls saw you come in last night." She looked over at Faith. "Faith," she said curtly, as she gives me a rather suspicious look.

"'Sup, Ro." The atmosphere between the two Slayers is less than warm. Rona's always been a bit standoffish, and Faith's not exactly the poster girl for cuddliness herself.

Shit, I really should have worked on my excuses a bit more before I got here. "Oh, I went out, and had a few too many. I just got a room, instead of bugging you guys to pick me up, or something. Last thing a Slayer needs is to be lugging a tipsy Xander around. Ran into Faith on the bus ride in. Small world, huh?" Yeah, I'm _sure_ she'll buy that one.

"Right," Rona says. Clearly, she didn't buy it, but I don't think she'll put me on the spot for it, at least not right now. Instead, she turns her attention to Faith "What brings you here?"

"Giles wants to pow-wow about something," she says as she lights up a smoke. "Don't ask me what, he wasn't too clear."

"I'll have to check it with him, just to be sure." Rona says. But before she can turn to the door and go back in, it opens, and Dawn pops out. She see me and smiles in that cutely innocent way that only she can manage. "Xan! Missed ya last night, could have used a hand."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, two of the newbies got into an argument, and one of them managed to throw a hairbrush through one of the walls of the sleeping area," she says with a smirk.

"Great, so you only love me for my home repair skills." I reply with a sigh.

She giggles a bit, then pauses as she notices Faith. "Oh, I didn't know you were bringing company. Hiya," she says with an awkward little wave. Dawn seemed to be unsure how to act around Faith. Of course, it had to be hard to reconcile all the horror stories she'd heard from Buffy and Willow with the kick-ass hero girl she'd seen during the stuff with the First.

If anything, Faith seems just as weirded out by Dawn, simply nodding out a return greeting. I decide not to wonder... the ins and outs of female interaction are far too complex for my feeble male brain.

"Yeah, ran into her on the way here," I say again. Doesn't sound any more believable the second time. I should think about hiring someone to write better lies for me...

Dawn turns back to me. "Lucky co-incidence you showing up when you did, I was just coming outside to call you on my cellphone." She smirks. "Willow's warding-spell-thingies are a little too good... no cell service inside the building."

"What'cha need from me?" I ask.

"Actually, Giles wants to see you, and he asked me to see if I could get a hold of you. Don't ask me what for, he seems a bit distracted lately."

I nod "He's got a lot goin' down, with Will digging up new recruits and Buff out of town. I'm doing my best to stay out of the way. Anyway, Faith's here to visit G-man anyway, so looks like things worked out good."

Dawn nods. "I'll take you guys to him." She opens the door to the warehouse, and I enter, with Faith close behind.

The doorway leads to a large entry area, without any decoration on it's rather hastily-hung walls. "Your work, I assume?" Faith says. "Very... homey."

"Hey, take it easy, I'm a carpenter, not a decorator." I turn to Dawn. "If I had to hazard a guess, I'd say Mr. Tweed is in his study."

"Your guess is right," she says with a nod as she leads us through the door. The next area is a large open space that we'd converted into a training area. At this point all we had were a couple of heavy bags, some padded martial arts training gear, but I also notice a couple of new additions:a few half-full weapons racks with assorted swords and axes, some real, some rubber practice versions.

"I see we got some new stuff. Surplus from the Watchers?"

Dawn nods. "Got them just after you left yesterday, one of Giles' old connections." She looks at me strangely. "That reminds me, where were you last night?"

"Oh, I just had to get out for a while," I say nonchalantly as I can. "Too must estrogen in here, I was starting get a bit strange. Had to make some time for man-stuff, before I started considering doing weird girl-things... exfoliating, using conditioner, that kind of business."

"Well, you could've just hung out with Giles," she says. "He's a guy."

"No, Giles is _English, _Dawnie. That's like the diet version of masculinity. His idea of a wild night is an extra cup of tea before bedtime."

She laughs, but I can't help but think that she's not totally convinced. Damn, why am I so paranoid? I mean, It's Dawn, so I should be safe.

She nods at a door at the far end of the room. "We'd better hurry, Giles seemed a bit anxious to talk to you earlier."

We follow her, and she knocks on the door. "Hey Giles? You must be psychic, all of a sudden. Xan showed up as soon as I went outside. Oh, and he brought Faith with him."

"Truly? Please show them in, Dawn." I hear the ex-Watcher's voice from inside.

She opens the door, and takes us into what used to be a small storeroom, that had been pressed into service as an office/storage space for assorted funky old magic books, scrolls, etc. It was drab, musty, boring... and that suited Giles just fine, I imagine. Giles himself was seated behind a small desk, cluttered with all sorts of documents scrawled with what might have even been writing.

"Ah, good to see you Xander. Faith, I hope things have been well?" he asks mildly.

"Fair to middlin' Giles," she replies as she takes a seat one of a couple of rickety chairs in front of the desk. "But I'm guessing this wasn't a social call?"

"Yes, you're quite right." He looks at me. "You may as well take a seat as well, Xander. The matter I wished to see you about is related to why I called Faith here." Dawn catches his eye, as she turns for the door. "Please stay, Dawn. I think I'd like to have you here for this, as well."

"Okay... " she says rather uneasily and leans against one of the bookcases on the wall.

Giles pulls off his glasses, and polishes them absently with a handkerchief. It's an old nervous habit of his, and that puts me on my guard. This ain't gonna be good.

He clears his throat, and starts talking. "Well, you see... I don't know how much you've heard, Faith, but since the awakening of the potential Slayers across the world, we've been primarily concerned with finding these newly-empowered Slayers, and-"

"Recruiting them?" Faith guessed.

"...Yes, to an extent," Giles said. "Some aren't willing or able to join us, but we do let them know about the sorts of dangers they'll be exposed to now that they have this power. The forces of darkness have long made targets of the Slayers, so at least this way, they'll be aware of what sorts of things may seek them out, in time."

Dawn shrugs. "Since we kinda forced this on them, it's only fair we give the girls a heads-up that their normal lives went bye-bye for good."

"Quite right," Giles says. "So far, the only person we have that has been able to locate the new Slayers with any kind of accuracy is Willow. It seems natural, since it was her power in part that roused their own abilities.

"The usual method of recruiting is that Willow, Kennedy, and their team search out the young ladies that have been empowered and, provided that they are either eighteen years of age, or legally emancipated, they are sent back to us for training, if that is what they wish."

"Eighteen? Seems like a switch from how it used to be," Faith notes.

"Yes, well..." Giles chews on his bottom lip a moment, seeming to grow even more uncomfortable. "We, meaning Buffy and myself, have come to the conclusion that the Watcher's council... miscalculated, in indoctrinating the girls so young, and without the knowledge of the families, in most cases. Now, with the younger girls, we are sure to let the parents know what their daughters may end up facing and the nature of their abilities, of course, but recruitment is entirely voluntary. I think... Buffy wishes that no girl should miss out on their childhood, the way that she and yourself did."

"Great, kinder, gentler Watchers?" Faith quips with an eye roll.

"Something like that, I suppose."

"Okay, makes sense so far, I guess, but what's this got to do with me?" Faith asks.

Giles reaches into a drawer in his desk and pulls out a large manila file. "In the last few months, we've noticed an alarming pattern of disappearances amongst new recruits."

This catches my interest. "I hadn't heard anything about this," I say.

Dawn cocks an eyebrow at me, "You haven't been around as much," she says.

"Sorry... but still... seems like every once in a while a couple of girls might change their minds... can't really blame them, I mean."

"Yes," Giles agrees, "But not at this rate. Out of the last twenty prospectives Willow's search team has sent back, fourteen have not made it to Cleveland. One has to suspect outside interference at this point."

Dawn looks at him sharply. "That many? Giles, why haven't you said anything."

"I didn't want to alarm the girls," he says, but something bugs me about the way he trails off.

"...And?" I prod him.

Giles sighs. "The only people who have known the identities have been within the Slayers, either here or in Willow or Andrew's field teams. And-"

"Wait," Faith cuts him off. "Andrew's leading a team of _Slayers?"_ She says in an astonished tone.

"Yes," Giles says. "In Europe. A very safe part of Europe, I might add. Easiest way to get him out from underfoot around here was to send him to the continent to recruit those with magical abilities."

I can't help but sigh. "I admit I kind of miss him. It was nice having someone lower on the food chain than me."

"In any case," Giles continues, "Given the fact that these identities have been a closely watched secret inside our group, I can't help but... suspect that one of our own may be working for whoever's been doing this."

"That would explain all the secrecy, like the vague messages you've given Faith to come here," I say.

"Exactly, Xander," Giles says. "The reason I brought Faith here was to ask her if she would perhaps look into this matter herself. She will, of course, be compensated, since she's not officially a member of our organization."

"I dunno, Giles," Faith says, "I'm not Sherlock Holmes, or whatever."

"You have good instincts, Faith, and your he senior-most Slayer alive, save Buffy," Giles replies. "And keep in mind, any threat to us may be a threat to you, eventually."

She says nothing for a second, then smiles. "I guess it'll all come down to how much you'll pay me, I suppose."

Giles reaches into another drawer and pulls out a normal postage-sized envelope, which has a rather large bulge in it. He slides it across the table, "That's a down payment," he says. "In addition, Willow has already begun to take steps to clear your criminal record, so you may live without fear of prosecution."

Her eyes widen a bit as she picks up the envelope, and takes a look inside. "Okay... I'm in... for now."

"That's all I ask," Giles says with a smile.

"Alright," Dawn asks, "What about me and Xander?"

"Dawn, I want you to keep an eye on things around the Slayers. They seem to know you, and trust you, you may hear a few things that you weren't meant to. As for Xander, he'll be accompanying Faith on her trip."

I feel like I just took a brick to the head. "Trip? I'm going somewhere?"

"Yes, Faith will be going out to investigate the disappearances, and you'll be her assistance, if you like to call it that."

Faith's starting to look a little leery at this point. "Wait, Giles, I work alone."

"I think I'm going to have to insist, Faith. I don't want you operating alone this time."

I glare at Giles. "What's to say I'll play along?"

"Xander, you're the most trustworthy person I have here, and... I don't think you'd turn down a chance to see Willow, would you?"

"What?"

"You're going to be meeting up with her, as part of this. I believe she's currently in Pennsylvania." Giles smiles. "Do you think you could be ready to leave tomorrow?"

* * *

We talk a bit more, but the important stuff is out of the way, for now. Giles promises to get in touch with Willow and get the details ironed out. I can't help but be a bit excited... Willow's always been my best friend, and being away from her for this long doesn't feel... right for some reason. Seeing her again will be terrific. 

The growling of Dawn's stomach loudly says it's lunchtime, so we all rise and prepare to make for the kitchen. I straggle behind the girls as they file out, and Giles' hand on my shoulder stops me.

"One moment, if you would, Xander, I have something to discuss," he says. As he looks at me, he produces a small black leather box, slightly larger than a cigarette case. "I want you to take this with you, please."

I look at him as I flip open the lid. Resting on soft foam inside is a small glass hypodermic needle, filled with a clear liquid.

"Giles, I don't get it, what is this?"

"That, Xander, is the Cruciamentum drug," he says simply. "You remember it?"

I do, and it's not a happy memory. "Wait, this stuff takes a Slayer's strength away. You gave it to Buffy on her eighteenth birthday, for that stupid test-thing the watchers gave the Slayers." I feel myself growing angry. "Why are you giving me this?"

"A precaution, Xander." he looks at me very seriously. Man, I hate that look.

"What do you mean?"

"The scenario I delineated earlier was accurate, as far as it went. There is the distinct chance that a Slayer here is the a traitor." he pauses. "But there is one possibility I deliberately left out. That Faith has betrayed us."

"You want me to dope up Faith with this?" I ask, hardly believing. "No way, Giles, that's bullshit!"

"Xander, I don't know that she's the one, but... she's been less than trustworthy at times in the past. You of all people know this."

Thanks for digging that nugget up, Giles. "She's not the traitor, I just... got a feeling." I close the box with an loud _snap! _"I ain't gonna need this." I say angrily.

"Keep it anyway, think of it as 'insurance,'" he says calmly.

I turn and walk out, pocketing the black box.

"I hope your feelings are right in this matter, Xander," I hear Giles say.

Good question, G-man...

**_TBC... _**

Author's Notes

_So, there it is. Just so you know, at this point, it looks like the story will be staying first person, at least, for a while. But, it's not just going to be Xander's POV. Be looking for a new viewpoint, maybe as soon as next chapter...  
_

_Music for my muses: _Queens of the Stone Age: _Era Vulgaris, _Light This City: _Facing The Thousand, _Kelly Hogan and the Pine Valley Cosmonauts: _Beneath the Country Underdog,_ Cream_: Disraeli Gears, _Massive Attack_: Mezzanine. _

(See, Lamb, I'm into more that just Death Metal,! That's a Hard Rock record, an Alt-Country record, a classic Acid Rock record, a dark Ambient Dub record, AAAAND a Death Metal record **with a female vocalist, no less! HAH!)  
**

_Thanks for reading, as always._

_ Regards,_

_ The Doctor,_

_ 20 July 2007 _


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